Season 1, Episode 3: Snakes on a Stripper Pole
by AngelHoffman
Summary: Foreman's attraction to Angel grows stronger; House's knowledge of Angel's past has life-threatening results. More of Angel Hoffman's secrets come to the surface. Mild Femme Slash. Continuation of the Angel Hoffman Arc
1. Chapter 1

Lisa Cuddy sat, cooing over her daughter Rachel, in her office. This wasn't the first time she had to bring Rachel in—or, secretly admitting, wanted to bring her daughter to be close by. Rachel adored her nanny but as Cuddy was learning, kids grow fast. Maybe it was time to bring up the idea of an on-site daycare to the board again….

Her thoughts were interrupted by a tap on her door. She smiled and beckoned Angel Hoffman to enter. Just as she was about to say hello, her phone rang. "Could you?" she quickly asked Angel, motioning to Rachel and her bottle. Angel gladly held her, talking softly while Cuddy answered the phone. Though Cuddy's thoughts were mostly on her call, she couldn't help but notice how well Rachel took to Angel, and how comfortable Angel was with her daughter.

By the time the call was over, Rachel was asleep in Angel's arms. Cuddy was impressed. "Not many people can carry that off the first time she meets them," she said quietly, taking Rachel and laying her down to sleep in her portable crib. Angel grinned and shrugged. "Now, what can I do for you? Is everything going ok with House?" Cuddy was concerned by the new look on Angel's face.

Angel held back a grimace, saying that all was fine, leaving out her banishment to Foreman's office this week. She took a deep breath.

Angel and Cuddy didn't notice House sitting across the lobby, baseball cap, shades, cane tucked behind his chair. His makeshift disguise so Angel wouldn't recognize him. Was she ratting him out to Cuddy about her punishment?

He watched the expressions of the two women: Angel distressed, Cuddy frowning then dismayed. _Shit. Am I in trouble again?_

Angel began to look upset, and Cuddy moved to sit by her, even so much as patting her hand. There was some kind of female bonding going on. Now House was confused. Cuddy flipped through some paperwork. Well, maybe he wasn't in trouble after all.

After a few teary moments from Angel, she smiled in what looked like relief. Cuddy returned the smile, gently patting her arm. House ducked down as Angel left Cuddy's office.

House's irritability changed to concern as she rounded the corner and leaned hard against the wall, then grabbed the rim of a garbage bin and vomited. He started to stand, to see if she was alright, when Foreman approached her.

"Angel? Are you ok?" Foreman could see how weak and pale she looked; he wrapped his arm around her, and carefully led her back to his office.

"I'm so embarrassed, part nerves, part migraine," Angel tried to laugh it off but her voice shook too hard.

Lisa Cuddy looked up from her desk when House just walked in, unannounced. "Shh, Rachel's sleeping," she sternly whispered knowing House's demeanor rarely included talking softly. House looked over and for a minute his eyes softened. Cuddy often saw him that way with children. Then he looked back over at her, face hard.

"So, what was Angel here to complain about? Whatever she said I did—"

"Actually we didn't discuss you." Cuddy's eyes narrowed suspiciously. "What did you do House? It's only her first week." Both spotted her resume on the top of the desk and dashed for it, House won.

"Why were you looking at her resume?" House frowned.

"I'm pushing forward her medical insurance application and I needed a few things to go in her file," Cuddy said with authority, chin jutting upwards. House knew something was up.

"Mmhmm." House tossed the resume back to Cuddy and walked out. There was one other person he knew he could get the truth from. Wilson.

"Aren't you lucky you're working for the neurologist this week?" Foreman ushered her in, turned off as many lights as he could and had her lie down on the couch with an ice pack. "I have to go to the pharmacy to get your dilaudid, but after this I'll have it here for you. Hang on; I'll be back as soon as possible."

Every footstep in the hallway, any sliver of light in the room made the pain in her head that much more excruciating. Tears trickled out of her eyes from sheer pain. They had been getting worse, but this was the worst by far. She was relieved when Foreman got back, even if it meant two needle sticks. "Ok, here's the dilaudid, and here's the zofran for your nausea."

Angel let out a shuddery sigh of thanks, too afraid to talk because of the pain and queasy feelings. It was as if someone waved a wand—the pain diminished drastically but she felt so sleepy. Eric handed her some ginger ale to sip.

"Just rest. The injectible works faster but it will knock you out for awhile." Foreman gently covered her with a blanket, and patted her hand. "I'll be right here if you need anything." He smiled as she quickly conked out. To see her wrinkled brow settle into a more peaceful visage was a relief for him too. The remains of a few tears clung to her long dark lashes which cast a stark contrast against her pale skin.

Foreman looked away, a bit embarrassed to be staring at her while she slept. He was her doctor and it just felt too….intimate to be watching her that way. But damned if he could help it. Hell, he was only human and just about every man in the department was tripping over themselves when she walked by. Except House. Foreman shook his head. If only he could hire Angel as an assistant….


	2. Chapter 2

"Come in," James Wilson called out in response to the tap on his door. He was surprised to see House, who usually just walked in. "House, what's up?"

"I just wanted to make sure Angel was ok," House said, putting on a worried look. Wilson furrowed his brow in response, so House continued. "She didn't look so good coming out of Cuddy's office—actually threw up. I was going to see if she was ok, but Foreman got to her first."

Wilson now looked downright worried himself, rubbed the back of his neck. "Oh, man, I was sure Cuddy would be okay with all this."

House sat in a chair, shaking his head. "I know, I tried to talk to Cuddy about it. I thought she was ok, but when I saw the resume…."

Wilson let out a big sigh. "And I'm the one who encouraged her to go to Cuddy….I really thought Cuddy would see all this was in the past, that Angel had just been afraid of being judged for being a stripper—"

_Bingo. _"Angel was a stripper?" House's body was having all kinds of reactions to that revelation.

Wilson abruptly stood up, realizing once more, House had pulled one over on him. "Wait, you didn't know? House! You will not tell anyone this! Understand? She's been through enough in her life and—"

House smiled placating towards Wilson. "Relax. Be not afraid." He grinned, while Wilson covered his face in his hands. Wilson shuddered, wondering when that joke would just fade away and die.

This was all the more reason to nip this in the bud. "House I mean it. You will not mention this to her, or anyone else. Leave her alone."

House walked out the door, leaving Wilson fuming in his wake.

"Hey there, sleepyhead," Foreman said, softly, as Angel stirred and opened her eyes. "How's your head?"

"Much better," Angel replied, still a bit groggy from the meds. "Less pounding and vomiting, good."

Foreman helped her sit up, gave her more ginger ale to sip. "Mmm, thanks. What time is it?" Foreman couldn't help but watch her stretch, cat-like, relaxed and unaware.

"What? Oh, nearly 5," he quickly looked back at his desk.

"Oh Dr. Foreman—"Angel was mortified.

"Eric," he gently reminded her.

"Eric, I'm so very sorry! Look, I'll stay late and make up the work this week…." Angel looked frantic, eyes searching his for disappointment, anger, anything but….

Foreman smiled, and took Angel's hands in his. "Relax. Don't want your migraine to come back. I've got a better idea." He shrugged. "What do you say about getting some dinner? Finish the work at my place?"

It took a minute for Angel's brain to catch up to Foreman's reaction and dinner proposal. She and James had talked about dating other people, not that this was a date, but…."Sure, I'd like that," she said with a warm smile.

"Pizza sound good? " He grinned at the idea of the two of them, alone, even if it was working….

Angel ducked her head, brushing a strand of hair off her face. "Sounds great."

As Foreman drove her home, they didn't speak much until they passed her apartment. She made a little comment, just small talk, but Foreman saw an opportunity. "Angel, this is on the way to my place. Why don't I drive from now on? Beats you riding the bus. Not to mention when it begins snowing. The busses can be a bit unpredictable."

"Oh Eric, that's so sweet, but I can't impose—"

"It's no imposition. Really. The company would be nice." Foreman was not going to let her get out of this. He may not have noticed her beauty before but he had noticed her pain. He helped her out of the car, and they continued debating up to his door.

Angel felt her resolve wavering. "I don't know. I don't want to be a bother…" Foreman crossed his arms resolutely. She felt her cheeks get hot looking at his biceps. He noticed a change in her eyes; success would be his.

"Tell you what. Let's try it for a week. Deal?"

"Okay, thank you Eric. It's really kind of you." Angel felt butterflies in her chest; she caught a glimpse of herself in a mirror, wanting to laugh at how giddy she looked.

Was this really possible? Two men—doctors at that—who found her attractive and wanted to spend time with her? True, James wanted to keep it casual, and who knows how things might wind up with Eric. She knew in her gut they weren't like the others. The ones she seemed to repeatedly wind up with after Connor died. A lump of guilt grew in her chest. Did she even deserve James or Eric? If they got to know the real woman she was, would they stick around?

"You know, I think this is the first time I don't mind working on charts after hours," he said, giving her a wink. He loved making her blush and she didn't disappoint.

Angel started work on the charts while Foreman began making pizza. He brought over a glass of Chianti and paused on his way back to the kitchen. She had kicked off her shoes, tucking her feet under her. The tight jeans melted against her curves. She'd removed her heavier sweater and was wearing a dark rose tank top which showed off a bit of her cleavage. Her curls floated about on her bare shoulders. He even thought she looked cute with her reading glasses. She was so involved in logging the charts on the laptop she didn't notice Foreman staring at her.

After getting the pizzas in the oven, he joined her on the couch. "Hey, you work fast," he remarked, surprised at the growing stack of finished charts.

Angel peered at him over the top of her reading glasses. "I'm starving, so the sooner these are done…Hey, don't make me do all the work," she teased him.

Angel's cell phone rang—a quick glance and she saw it was James. "I'll be right back," she said, excusing herself to Foreman's hallway to take the call. "James, hi," she said, feeling awkward.

"Angel, hey glad I caught you. You busy tonight? Thought we could catch a movie or hang out," Wilson said cheerfully.

She hesitated. "Actually James, I already have plans. Can I get a rain check?" Angel didn't want to make him feel bad. _I'm just working with Eric tonight, what's there to feel guilty about?_

Wilson, glad she couldn't see the disappointment on his face, said, "Sure, no problem. We'll catch up this week." He had wanted to warn her about House but just couldn't do it on the phone.

Angel ended the call and sat back on the couch, smiling at Foreman. They both reached for the last chart. She flinched as her hand touched his. Foreman could no longer resist the urges he'd had all day. He gently reached out and took her hand. He slowly pulled her to him, and removed her reading glasses. Foreman leaned into her and kissed her softly, so soft, she almost wasn't sure he'd kissed her after all.

She ran her hands up his arms until she got to his biceps. She felt them tighten as his arms wrapped around her and he kissed her with a bit more pressure this time. He ran his fingers down her bare arms and then to her hips. The fabric of her tank had pulled loose from her jeans, so his thumbs just brushed her skin. Angel took in a deep breath, kissing him back, dizzy from the wine and his sudden decision to change their working relationship to…_What was this?_ Angel wondered. Not that she minded one bit.

When the kitchen timer went off, both pulled back, breathing hard. Angel felt a wave of shyness come over her, as she smiled and looked down. "I….certainly didn't expect that," she said, with a tremble in her voice. Foreman smiled as he got off the couch and slid the pizzas out of the oven.

"Couch or table?" He called to her, a husky tone still quite clear in his voice. Her eyes grew wide, mind obviously elsewhere. Foreman laughed hard.

"I meant, do you want to eat on the couch or at the table?" Predictably, she blushed madly and pointed at the table, too flustered to speak. Foreman chuckled again.

"I think this is the best pizza I've ever had," Angel said after a few bites, eyes closed in bliss.

"I'm glad you like it. Secret recipe," Foreman teased.

"Secret recipe hmm? Bet I could get it out of you," Angel teased, running her bare foot across his under the table. The wine was definitely loosening her up.

When they finished, Angel sighed, looking over to the coffee table with the lone unfinished chart. "It's not going to finish itself." She started over there, when Foreman gently took her arm.

"Let me. Why don't you kick back?" Angel willingly curled up on the couch, hand delicately rubbing a spot on her neck. "Headache coming back? Want me to help?"

"Thanks, but sometimes anyone else rubbing my neck makes my head worse. Physical therapy was a disaster," Angel said with a grimace.

Foreman put the last chart on the pile, turned to her. "Your headaches and migraines….have you always had them with this frequency?"

Angel bit her lip, avoided looking into his eyes. "No….they started like this about 7 years ago."

Foreman frowned, thinking. "Anything you can think of that triggered them? An accident, an illness….something like that?" Angel remained quiet; he could see she was reluctant to speak, almost ashamed. "Angel, as your doctor, whatever you say is confidential. I promise, no one else will find out."

"Not even House?" she asked with her voice shaking timidly.

"Not even House. There is definitely no love lost between us. Now….what happened?" He gently took her hand. She flinched at first, but then closed her eyes.

"When I was 19 I was raped. I tried to fight him, but he threw me down and I hit my head a few times. A few days later I got a headache that didn't go away for 2 months. By the time I was ready to try to find a treatment….I found out I was pregnant." Angel felt guilty leaving out some of the details but figured this was all he needed to know.

She finally looked at Foreman and saw a look of horror on his face. "Angel, I….I don't know what to say, except I'm so sorry. Have you told this to your other doctors?"

Angel shook her head. "I kept my baby….I didn't want people to treat him differently. But he died when he was 3 and…..I just didn't care anymore. Until my last job, but ironically the migraines got so bad I had to quit."

Foreman felt drawn to Angel and soon she was tucked in his arms. She welcomed the embrace. It drove away the painful gnawing in her heart, reliving the attack and losing Connor. She'd had blows to her head since but she didn't want to reveal that dark part of her life. Besides, the headaches hadn't gotten worse so it probably didn't matter. He stroked her hair and she began to regret not telling him everything but he made her feel safe and she didn't want to lose that.

Foreman held Angel in his arms until he felt the tension in her body completely dissolve. He realized she was asleep, and couldn't bear to wake her just yet. The wine and the warmth of her body had him quite relaxed and he dozed off.

It wasn't until Angel cried out from a nightmare that they both woke up. She was shaking, tears in her eyes, body trembling, and completely disoriented. "Angel, shhh it's ok, it's Eric, and you're here with me. You're safe." She looked into his eyes and crumpled her face against his chest, shuddering.

Foreman looked at her with concern, she was so frightened. "What happened?"

"I…..I don't remember," Angel lied, sitting up, trying to break the hold the nightmare had on her. Then she saw the clock, it was well after midnight. "Oh no, is that the time? I'll call myself a cab," Angel said, voice still shaking, as she stood from the couch. Foreman gently put his hands on her arms.

"Look, it's really late, why don't you stay here? We'll get up a bit early, I'll drive to your place, and you can change in time for work. Honest, no ulterior motives here," he said gently with a smile.

Angel knew his willpower, so she agreed. He gave her a shirt to sleep in. She felt rather sexy, even though it was a t-shirt; Angel blushed as she climbed into his bed. But soon the words of her nightmare came back…._You know what you did. You're evil. Everyone you love dies. It's all your fault._ The words that had haunted her for years, even though she didn't know what it meant, chilled her to the bone.

"Eric?" He opened his eyes and hoped he wasn't dreaming. Angel was standing there next to the couch, shaking. "It's a….big bed….would you…?" She didn't need to finish before he was on his feet, following her back to the bedroom.

Damn, she looked hot in that t-shirt of his, the curve of her breasts and the hint of her underwear fully waking him up. But as sexy as looked, and as aroused as he was, she came to him for comfort, not sex. He gently covered her up and crawled into bed next to her. His fingers stroked her hair; she let out a comforted sigh.

Angel felt guilty, knowing the effect she was having on Foreman, but there was no way to sleep otherwise. Her sleeping pills were at home, and she had to admit it felt nice having her hair stroked that way. It was like something from a lovely dream and soon, she was asleep once more.


	3. Chapter 3

House was on the second floor overlooking the lobby when Angel and Foreman walked in together. He glared hotly towards them; they looked way too chummy for his liking. The way Foreman touched her arm. The way Angel smiled and tossed her hair back. Wasn't she supposed to be dating Wilson anyway? Not that he liked _that_ arrangement. But if she was flirting around behind his best friend's back? Oh he'd put a stop to her.

"I've got to go to the pharmacy, meet you back at your office?" Angel was definitely in a better mood today.

"See you there." Foreman smiled. The memory of her in his t-shirt was a very nice way to start out the day.

His mood changed when he entered the conference room to drop off the charts and found House there, eyelids slitted, looking like a predator waiting to pounce. "Morning, Foreman."

"Hi, House," he replied, cautiously. House's eyes followed him as he stacked the charts.

"Wow, you got those done in one day? Has someone been eating their Wheaties?" House cocked his head, keeping his tone light but the message clear.

"Has someone been pissing in yours? Angel's been a great help," Foreman shot back. He was in no mood for House today.

"Hmm. Angel seems to have a lot of talents," House remarked, then limped out of the conference room.

Foreman shook his head, wondering what set House off this time. He grabbed a cup of coffee for himself and a cup of tea for Angel and headed to his office.

Angel found the workday flying by; Foreman had brought leftover pizza for lunch and she enjoyed the jazz he had playing in the background. She couldn't help blushing every time their hands touched.

Later in the afternoon, Foreman got out her chart. "Angel do you have your MRI films?"

"Shoot, they're in my desk in the conference room. I'll take a peek and make sure House isn't there. Be right back."

After a glance, Angel saw the rest of the team, but no House. They all smiled and said hello. "Sorry I can't stay to chat, just need to pick up some films," Angel said, unlocking her bottom drawer, her back to the team.

"That can't _possibly_ be Angel in here, because I know I _distinctly_ told her I didn't want to see her this week." Angel cringed and had to fight to take a breath before she turned around to face House.

"Dr. House, I-I had to pick up MRI films for Dr. Foreman," she replied nervously, feeling herself go pale.

Before she could leave, House walked to her and blocked her quick escape. "Do you know what happens when employees disobey me? And that I really hate being lied to?" Angel began to shake, seeing anger in his blue eyes which now were level with hers.

"I found out some really interesting information from your boy-toy Wilson," House hissed. "Or is Foreman now your boy-toy? You're moving so fast I can't keep track."

"You're sleeping with Wilson?" Taub asked in shock, with just a bit of jealousy; _lucky guy, Wilson_, he thought.

"You're sleeping with Wilson and Foreman?" Chase nearly laughed, getting an elbow in the ribs from Hadley. Not only had she been with Foreman before dating Chase, she didn't think Angel deserved this treatment.

"Never mind. Ms. Hoffman, it would appear, used to be a stripper. I'd ask if you were moon lightning but, well, I've seen your place. Either that or you're a really bad stripper." Angel turned white, as the team became speechless.

"Dr. House, please, could we discuss this in your office?" Angel's voice was barely above a whisper.

"Only if you're going to give me a demonstration," he sneered.

"House! Leave her alone," Hadley stood up, angry.

"So. Was your baby's daddy one of your customers? Or too many men to remember?" Angel felt she couldn't breathe any more. She dropped the films, pushed passed House and ran out the door, right into Wilson.

"How…could…you…." Angel sobbed. "You promised….you wouldn't…tell." Before Wilson could even begin to apologize, she ran off. Wilson marched into the conference room.

"House! Your office, now." The team had never seen Wilson as angry as he was this moment. They couldn't hear every word but they secretly delighted in seeing Wilson take House down a few pegs until he looked downright remorseful.

"What's going on?" Foreman walked in and could tell something big had happened.

"Are you really sleeping with Angel?" Chase taunted Foreman. Hadley got up, glaring at him.

"What the hell…? No….Where is she?" He looked to Hadley who seemed to be the only one not glued to the going-ons between House and Wilson.

"House said that Angel used to be a stripper. He was mad he caught her in here. Then he made a comment about a child, and asked her if she knew who the baby's father was," Hadley said, disgusted with House. "She left, really upset."

"Son of a bitch, I'd love to punch him now but I'm going to look for Angel." Foreman ran out.

"You arrogant, self-absorbed ass! I told you to leave her alone! So she was in here, so what? Some arbitrary rules that you laid down which actually resulted in her being happy! Yes, she used to be a stripper. Cuddy was fine with it. You only made it an issue to get back at her. What else did you say to her?" Wilson was angry to the point his face was flushed. This was the kind of day it was fucking hard to be Greg House's friend.

"I said you were sleeping with her and that she was sleeping with Foreman. Wilson, I mean, she's cheating on you, and—"Wilson cut off his excuse with a furious glare.

"First off, my sex life is none of your business. Second, Angel and I are not in a serious relationship. She's free to date whomever she chooses. And?" Wilson knew there was more.

"I asked her if she knew who her baby's father was…" At this point, House genuinely was feeling wretched. He knew that comment was over the line and from the look from Wilson, he really fucked up.

House expected an explosion from Wilson but there was none. Instead his friend sat down, shoulders slumped over, face in hands. House felt uncomfortable, then worried, then alarmed. "Wilson….?"

Wilson looked at him, eyes rimmed red. "You really know exactly how to stab people in the heart don't you? She was raped, House. She didn't call the police because she was 'just a stripper'."

House was speechless. He knew Angel had done nothing to deserve such venom. And even an apology would never make things right. Wilson stood up, walked quietly to the door. Without looking back, he said "I think I liked you better on vicodin."

Angel grabbed her purse from Foreman's office. In a way she was glad he wasn't there. She didn't want him to know everything. But she felt like her world was crashing down around her again, and somehow, he could make it better. She just needed air. Space. To be alone.

She headed to the roof.

It was cold, but the bite of the breeze pushed air back into her lungs so she could cry. Angel sank to her knees, no strength left after running up the stairs. The air stung the tears in her eyes, but she hardly noticed. Her phone rang, it was Foreman. She ignored it. It was quickly followed by Wilson and Hadley. She ignored them too.

Angel's head was spinning, hoping this was just another nightmare and she'd wake up. It wasn't. She slowly got to her feet and walked towards the edge of the building, spooking a few pigeons that scurried into flight. She looked up, the sinking sun painting the clouds. She wished more than anything to be with Connor. She gazed over the landscape of PPTH, how tiny everything looked. How everything looked peaceful but she knew it was just a mirage.

She felt her anxiety coming on way too strong to control any longer, so she took her Ativan, and decided to take her buspar early. She had to calm down enough to get home on her own. She couldn't face anyone right now. Certainly not Wilson and definitely not Foreman, who seemed to be calling her every few minutes.

Angel began to feel calm and then a bit strange. Her hands were getting cold and she thought she should tell Foreman she was okay when she dropped her phone. Some itty bitty people in the parking lot below her saw it, and then looked up at her. She smiled and waved.

With still no luck reaching Angel on her cell, Foreman went to Cuddy's office; she was standing in the lobby, talking with security and staff.

"Dr. Cuddy, there's a problem--I need to find Angel and—" Cuddy interrupted him.

"One of the staff found a cell phone in the parking lot. It was dropped from the roof. I've alerted security," Cuddy said calmly, though worry covered her face, as she handed the phone to Foreman.

"Oh god, it's Angel's," Foreman said, panicked, as he turned and headed up there.

The team was about to leave the conference room when all their pagers went off. House stepped out of his office. "New case?"

Hadley shook her head, with a hard look at House. "No. It's Angel. She's on the roof."


	4. Chapter 4

Foreman reached the rooftop first, quickly followed by the rest, except House. Foreman felt his heart skip a beat when he saw Angel on the ledge of the roof, holding on to a light pole, swinging back and forth.

"Angel! Please, come down so we can talk," Foreman begged. He expected her to be distraught. He did not expect her to be giggling. The group looked nervously amongst each other as Angel's current demeanor took them by surprise.

"Shh, the birds are teaching me how to fly so I can go visit Connor over on that cloud," Angel hushed them sternly, pointing to a cloud in the distance. Softly she began to sing. "_Someday I'll fly away, leave all this to yesterday…_" Her voice was lovely and haunting, the look on her face twisted between grief and joy.

"Angel, give me your hand, I'll take you to Connor but not this way," Foreman tried to keep his voice from shaking. She didn't move away, so he inched closer. Taub followed suit, reaching his hand out to her as well.

She began shaking and Foreman noticed her eyes looked glassy. "Come on, everything will be okay, just take my hand." Angel slowly nodded and began to reach for Foreman and Taub when her body went limp. They barely grasped her and pulled her to safety when she began seizing.

Wilson ran forward with a syringe of Ativan, figuring they would need it for sedation. "My god, she's burning up."

Foreman carried Angel, unconscious but still twitching, until they could get her on a gurney. House was standing there, holding a set of restraints. "She's not suicidal House! She's sick!" Foreman quickly helped the staff get her hooked up to monitors and was distressed at what they showed.

"Blood pressure rising, body temp 104, run a tox screen and a CBC. Let's get a cooling blanket in here," Foreman barked to the nurses. He stopped for a moment and stroked Angel's forehead.

"Rest of you, back to the conference room," House directed after clearing his throat. The team, stunned into silence, followed. "Differential diagnosis…come on people. Right now we have to think of her as a patient. Symptoms: high BP, high body temp, hallucination, seizures. Go."

"Drug or drug overdose," Chase offered quietly.

"Infection," added Hadley.

"She threw up yesterday, had a bad migraine, I'm putting Meningitis on the board," said House, rubbing his brow.

House's pager went off. "Tox screen negative." He crossed that off the white board. "Start her on…whatever antibiotic she's not allergic to, get a lumbar puncture." The team rushed out, leaving House alone to stare at the words on the board until they seemed meaningless.

By nightfall, after numerous tests, the team huddled around Angel's bed. Her condition was worsening and she'd likely be moved to ICU soon. Foreman grabbed the latest test results from the nurse. His face fell.

"She's showing signs of rhabdo, metabolic acidosis, and DIC, and her fever's up to 105," he announced. She'd had 2 more seizures and hadn't regained consciousness. He sat wearily in a chair by her bedside, gently touched her cheek, flushed red with the fever. "Angel, hang on. We're doing everything we can."

House didn't want to be in here, but she had been fine hours ago, and now her body was shutting down. He picked up her chart for the third time, scrutinizing it for any detail he missed. "Foreman. No new meds recently?" Foreman shook his head.

"Ok. Past 48 hours. Where has she been besides home and work?" House looked at Foreman.

"She stayed the night—but it's not what you think. She—" House interrupted.

"Yeah, we get it; you're not sleeping with her. Ok. So you gave her a ride in. I saw you two talking…." House tilted his head, thinking, replaying the scene in his head. He'd been so angry…what was he missing?

At that moment a soft alarm went off. Everyone looked at the monitors but it was coming from her purse. Foreman reached over and turned it off. "She sets an alarm to remind her to take some of her meds."

House looked up suddenly. "Empty her purse; get out all her medication bottles. Where did she go after you two got here this morning?"

"The pharmacy, but it was just for a refill," Foreman started pulling the bottles from her handbag.

"Which medication? Look at refill dates, c'mon, c'mon." House's breathing quickened.

Foreman held up a bottle. "This one. Buspar." House snatched it out of his hand and opened it up, pulling out a pill. It did not match the description on the bottle.

"Chase, _run_ to the pharmacy and have them identify this. Call me with the answer," House ordered, heart pounding, hoping he was right, and hoping they'd found out in time.

The room grew silent again when House's phone rang. He closed his eyes with a small smile and quiet sigh of relief, and then hung up. "The pharmacy screwed up. They filled it with bupropion instead."

"Serotonin Storm," Foreman finished House's thoughts. House nodded.

"Give her cyproheptadine and chlorpromazine, antihypertensives if her BP doesn't improve." No one but Wilson noticed House's hand shaking while he stood with his cane. "I'll be in my office."

"House," Wilson called after him. House turned quietly. "Good catch." House nodded and walked away.

Slowly, Angel's vitals began to improve; it would appear no permanent damage had been done. Cuddy fired the pharmacist on the spot. One by one, the team members stopped by, but Angel remained unconscious. Wilson looked ashen with worry and guilt. He never should have betrayed her trust like that. But even he didn't think that House would stoop so low as to mock her about her dead son. He stood next to her bedside, shifting his weight from one foot to the other in nervousness. Finally he kissed her on the forehead and left, eyes tearing up.

With Foreman in her room, House knew better than to go in. He figured, correctly, that he'd wind up in a hospital bed after Foreman got through with him. Angel's words from their argument came back to haunt him. He'd meddled again—thinking it was on Wilson's behalf—and Wilson had figuratively walked out on him. The two had not spoken since Angel's diagnosis.

Soon, Foreman was the only one who remained and refused to go home. After the cooling blanket was removed, he held her hand, stroking it with his thumb. He lifted her hand to his lips and kissed it. He'd almost lost her today. If his hand hadn't been right there to grab hers in time….it struck Foreman that he definitely had more than casual feelings for Angel. He rested his head against the mattress, dozing off.

He awoke to the feeling of her fingers moving in his. Her sleepy eyes blinked, looking around, confused. "You're at PPTH. The pharmacy messed up one of your medications and you had a bad reaction. But you're going to be okay now," Foreman soothed her, brushing a lock of her hair off her cheek.

She nodded but the events with House came flooding back to her, and her heart rate spiked along with her blood pressure. Alarms went off and nurses came running in. "Angel, you have to calm down, I know you're upset about yesterday but it's ok." The nurses put on an oxygen mask and increased the sedative they were using while the remnants of the twitching dissipated.

_Yesterday? I missed a whole day?_ Angel felt so dazed and fuzzy but the pain from yesterday was flooding back. She calmed down enough and removed the oxygen mask despite Foreman's protests. Suddenly she felt she couldn't meet his eyes and looked away. "When can I go home?"

"Maybe tomorrow, but your vitals are still a bit unsteady. Angel, look at me, please." Foreman's voice was so kind, so tender; she wondered if he knew anything at all. But when she saw his eyes, she knew he did. Her lower lip trembled.

"Hey, everything is ok. House is an ass. He's outed all of us for various things, and yeah it hurts like hell. I can't speak for everyone else, but your past life, your past job, makes no difference in how I feel about you." Angel's heart fluttered and blushed when it showed on the monitor; she knew Foreman could see how she was feeling. But that sense of doom was there. This was his attempt to get her to feel better. When she was well, things would change. They'd all look down on her.

Foreman could see the doubt in her eyes, her forehead creased with worry. Slowly, as not to get tangled in the tubes and wires, he hugged her, stroking her back and kissing the top of her head. "My mom died a few months ago and I didn't tell anyone. House found out and told everyone. I have a juvenile record—stole cars, broke into houses. House has made sure everyone knew. I've also got a brother in jail. You can guess who announced that to the team." Angel lifted her head off Foreman's shoulder, tenderness in her eyes.

"Eric…I'm sorry about your mom. And I'm sorry that he did those things to you," she said, brushing her hand along his cheek. "You do understand. I…I haven't been able to trust anyone in a long time. I thought I could trust James…." Her voice broke off, choked with tears.

"I hope I can earn your trust, Angel. When I thought we were going to lose you…" Foreman shook his head. He leaned forward and kissed Angel softly on her lips, still a bit feverish. That managed to produce a small smile from Angel, a good sign to Foreman.

In the morning, Angel was much more alert; vitals had remained stable throughout the night. Taub was the first to poke his head in, followed by Hadley and Chase. They all gave Angel a quick hug.

"You gave us quite a scare; I don't have much more hair to lose," gently scolded Taub.

The three shared with Angel their own private demons that had been made public by House: Taub's affair; Hadley's bisexuality and Huntington's chorea; and House not telling Chase his father was dying of cancer. They all expressed their deep sympathy for Connor. Angel smiled and thanked them but inside was feeling panicky. She was getting too close to them. They knew too much about her. She didn't think she could convince herself to stay this time. It might be time to pick up and run again.

At that moment, Wilson slowly peered in. Everyone could see the expression on Angel's face harden; they all said a quick farewell and left, staying just outside of view of the room. All but Foreman—he wasn't about to leave Angel without her saying so. "C-could I have a minute with Angel?" Wilson stammered. Foreman looked at Angel who just nodded.

Wilson came to her bed, and began to put his hand on hers when she pulled hers away. "Angel, I am so terribly sorry. House began talking like he already knew what had gone on in Cuddy's office and I fell for it. But I should never have said anything. Angel, I would never hurt you on purpose like that."

Angel bit her lip, and looked down. When she began to speak, it was just more than a whisper. She tried to control it so she wouldn't cry. "James, I….I know you're his best friend, but you betrayed my confidence. I can't be with anyone I don't trust. I need some space."

"I-I understand completely. I'm so sorry." When Angel didn't look at him, Wilson glanced at Foreman, who glared at him. Wilson turned and left.

Angel closed her eyes and willed the tears to not fall. It hurt her so much to say that to Wilson but he was better off without her. Better to break it off now and give him time to heal than to just take off with no explanation.

Suddenly Angel and Foreman heard the raised voices of House and Cuddy in the hallway. "I saved her life, dammit!" Angel's eyes grew wide and fearful; she reached for Foreman's hand.

"Please Eric, I don't want to see him, I can't see him," she begged, breathing faster. Foreman nodded and stepped into the hallway.

The three voices grew louder; Angel covered her ears and squeezed her eyes shut as a panic attack washed over her…..

…"_You little bitch! Now look what you did! It's all your fault! You're evil, that's what you are! You should have never been born!" The sound of breaking glass, the feeling of being thrown against a wall…._

"Angel? Angel are you okay?" The sound of Cuddy's voice and the touch of her hand made Angel startle violently, but chased away the voices and pictures in her head. She must have looked awful because Cuddy looked alarmed and was about to page for a nurse when Angel nodded.

"I'm so sorry about the noise out there. Do you need anything?" Angel shook her head no, still trembling. "I have to ask you Angel….when you went up to the roof, were you suicidal?" Cuddy hated asking but for Angel's safety she had to know.

"No, no. I just….needed some quiet and some air. Eric told me what happened because of the medication. But I understand why you had to ask me that." Angel turned a bit pink from embarrassment.

"First off, I'm very sorry about the drug mix-up in the pharmacy. That pharmacist has been fired, and the rest will go through a re-certification class."

"Dr. House will be disciplined for his treatment of you. Not only had you discussed the matter with me, but his treatment was clearly harassment. You may file harassment charges against Dr. House. I've brought papers. Signing has absolutely no effect on your employment here at PPTH. You can request to be reassigned to a different department, but it's not required."

"No," Angel said, simply and quietly.

"I…don't understand," Cuddy said. "Do you want me to give you some time to think—"

"No to all of it. The discipline, the harassment charges. It's over. He….He's a good doctor and I wouldn't want someone not treated because I signed some papers." Angel handed the papers back to Cuddy.

"Are you…sure?" As much as Lisa Cuddy cared for House, she was completely appalled by what he had said to Angel, and horrified to think what the outcome could have been. Angel simply nodded.

"Okay then. We're signing your release papers; you'll be free to go home very soon. I want you take the rest of the week off." Cuddy gently rubbed Angel's arm and smiled, then left.


	5. Chapter 5

Foreman brought in her discharge papers and told her he'd find a wheelchair while she signed. When he got back to the room, Angel was gone. A nurse told the panicked doctor she had mentioned going up to her office. He caught her right before she walked into the conference room.

"Angel, you need to go home and rest, not work," he said gently, taking her arm. She looked up at him and the look in her eyes was numb, her face expressionless.

The team stared dumbfounded as she walked in and over to her desk. House quickly limped over, guilt from his behavior and outrage from not being allowed in her room battling in his head. Cuddy had already read him the riot act and told him that Angel refused to sign any complaints. He was going to force himself to be nice if it killed him. If nothing else, maybe Wilson would speak to him again.

"Welcome back, glad you're feeling better. You really don't need to come back until next week though," House said, thinking it sounded pretty civil, polite even. "I'd like to see you in my office."

Angel turned, holding a few personal items from her desk. "I quit." There was no anger or sadness in her voice, there was….nothing. The silence in the conference room was deafening as she walked out.

Foreman ran after her and caught her before she reached the elevator. "Angel, what are you doing? You need this job. Cuddy said you could transfer. I don't understand…." He looked at her, confused.

"This was a mistake from the beginning. It's fine. I…may need you as my neurologist until I can transfer. Please," she put her hand on his chest when he started to protest, "This has nothing to do with you. I just need to go."

"But what about us? I thought there was something starting there…" Foreman was grasping for anything to keep her here.

Angel's eyes seemed darker when she looked up at him. "I'm sorry if I led you on. There is no us, Eric. I need to go now. Goodbye, Eric."

Angel was surprised how easy it was to walk away. No tears this time, but she couldn't shake the feeling of regret at seeing the look on his face when the elevator doors closed. She thought she was free until Cuddy caught up with her in the lobby.

"Angel! What's going on? Dr. Hadley informed me you quit?" Cuddy was worried by the complete change in Angel's demeanor over the past few days.

"I'm so very sorry, but yes, I need to do this. Thank you so much for the opportunity. I apologize for all the commotion I caused. I'll be by to collect my last paycheck next week. Thank you Dr. Cuddy," Angel said, walking away, leaving Cuddy speechless.

Cuddy turned around, looked up on the 2nd floor balcony—the team, minus House, was there, looking on. The dismay on Foreman's face made her wish there was more she could do.

Angel spent the rest of the day in bed, phone off, staring at the wall. Later, she ignored Foreman knocking on her door. He finally gave up and left. That twinge of regret came back but mostly she felt empty. This was a new record for her: less than two weeks at a job before she bolted. But she hadn't expected people to care. Her feelings for Wilson and Foreman, especially, caught her off guard. Fear kept telling her they were ok with her now, but give them time and they'd soon be gossiping behind her back, about the pain meds, or the bruises, or her sketchy past.

Friday she finally dragged herself out of bed, submitting to hunger. _Better look at the job ads_, she decided. She nearly laughed at the irony with the first big ad she saw. Interviews were this afternoon, the job started tonight. Hell, the pay was far better than what she made at PPTH. What did she have to lose? Angel glanced at the clock. She had just enough time to get a few things done to prepare for the interview.

By 4 pm, Angel shivered under her coat as she rode the bus downtown. Not the best weather for this uniform but she knew it was important for her future employer to see that she not only knew the business, she was ready to start tonight.

She exited the bus, and right as she got to the door, she took off her coat and slung it over her shoulder, holding it with freshly manicured nails. Angel pushed open the door to the WildKat Club and walked in, resting her other hand on her hip. She gazed around at her so-called competition: some too young, some too old, others, she had to bite her lip to keep from laughing. What, did they think they were coming to work for a buffet joint?

Heads turned, eyes slitted, checking her out in return, many with glares. She'd chosen a uniform she liked to call "Slutty Farm Girl"—hair curled up in pigtails, sheer demi push-up bra that just hid her nipples, sheer shirt tied at her bust line, bandana around her neck. The outfit was completed with tiny denim shorts that were very low in the front—accenting her new belly ring—and very short and tight in the back, the curves of her ass showing to tease the customers. The high heel shoes were killing her feet but a necessary evil.

By the time she met the owner Bud Friendly (and there was no question how he acquired his last name) she knew the job was hers. His eyes lit up and the man was practically drooling and Angel hadn't even batted her eyelashes or brought out her fake Southern accent. She introduced herself as "Tricksy"—only the dancers had full names.

"Well, now Tricksy, you know that bandana, as cute as it is, hides that lovely neck of yours," he commented with a leer as he began to untie it. Angel had to force a smile on her face to hide the revulsion she suddenly felt. He tossed the fabric to the side and ran his fingers across her neck. "There, much better. I'm sure the customers will like that. You can start tonight?"

"Yes sir," Angel said with a girlish giggle.

"Good, and who knows, if you do well, you might move from server to dancer," Bud winked at her. "Make sure you come in a half hour early so I can show you the ropes, 'k darling?"

Angel smiled and nodded but felt sicker. She knew exactly what he was going to show her and it had nothing to do with her job. She had to tell herself to just keep thinking of the paycheck and tips. Judging by the other servers she was going to make a killing here. She walked out, head high, putting back on her coat at the last minute. She had enough time to go home for dinner and a quick nap. She was on until 2 a.m. It would be a long night.

"I swear to god, if one more guy slaps my ass…" Angel muttered under her breath as she crossed the smoky room with a tray full of drinks. She'd gotten off far easier than she had anticipated with Bud before her shift started. A handful of pain meds and a few shots erased the revulsion at being felt up by her new boss.

She was right though, she was making a killing. Most of the guys—she'd never call them gentlemen—loved sticking the tips into her bra or down the front of her shorts. A few drunken bastards thought it was funny to drop an ice cube into her cleavage instead. But Angel stopped from glaring at them, although the old place she worked for never would have tolerated customers treating the girls this way. The bouncers would have tossed them out in a heartbeat.

Tray empty, she walked up to the bar to get the next batch of orders when an older man grabbed her arm, asking for a lap dance. "I'm sorry, sugar, but I'm a server. If you see the gentleman over there, he can arrange for a private room for you and one of our WildKat ladies," Angel said with a smile, grateful at this moment she was 'just' a server.

But this guy was persistent and very drunk. He grabbed harder; she knew it was going to leave a bruise. "Sir, you're hurting me, please let go. How about I buy you a drink?" Angel started to feel panicky until a hand grabbed his and pulled it off her arm.

"I believe the lady said to let go. Now here's a drink. Don't make me call one of the bouncers." Angel's eyes widened, and her heart pounded as the woman said, "Hey, are you ok?"

Angel turned, swallowing hard. "H-hi Remy. Thanks for that." She rubbed her sore arm as Hadley stared at her in shock.

"Angel? I…" Hadley was speechless as her narrowing emerald eyes took in the view of her former co-worker. Her shock wore off as she hissed, "What the hell are you doing here? You work here? Why?"

"It pays better than PPTH. I…I was going to have to find a second job anyway." Angel couldn't even pretend to have any pride being scrutinized like this.

Hadley tossed down the shot in front of her before she could speak again. "You gave up working for House so you can get groped by drunken men?" She shook her head. "I could never work someplace like this."

Angel bit her lip as angry tears threatened. "Well, not all of us have that option, _Doctor_ Hadley. It's good enough for you to come here to drink. Good thing you have us lowly servers to help you out," Angel turned to leave.

"Wait, Angel, I'm sorry," Hadley gently took her arm. "I just think you deserve better than this." Angel took a rattled breath and looked at her.

"This is why I left. My past would never stay in the past. Like you said, this is beneath you. That's all you'd see if I stayed. God knows House would never let it drop." Angel watched as she threw down two more shots. "Remy? I don't know much about your condition, but drinking like this can't be good for you."

"Eh, I'm used to it. Here, have one, you so need to lighten up," Hadley said, pushing one to Angel. It burned her throat but at least she didn't feel so much.

"Remy, stay put, I have to get this table," Angel said, concerned about Hadley and the look her boss was giving her.

"Hey baby, me and the guys here want to see you and your girlfriend make out," hooted the one guy at the table.

"Uh, she's not—" Angel stammered when Hadley came up behind her, curling her hand around Angel's bare waist.

"$500 boys, and I guarantee it's worth every penny," Hadley purred, nuzzling her head against Angel. With a whoop, the guys threw their money on the table. Hadley took the serving tray from Angel and put it on the bar. Angel's heart was pounding hard.

Gently, Hadley stroked Angel's hips, tilted her head and brought her lips to Angel's. Angel closed her eyes, tasting the whiskey on her lips and then her tongue as Hadley teased it into her mouth, rubbing it against hers. Angel let out a moan and pressed up against her body, every nerve in her body suddenly alive as their breasts rubbed together.

The sounds of the room were gone as Hadley's hands roamed her body, fingers stroking first the curve of her ass, and then cupping one of Angel's breasts. Angel ran her fingers along the skin of Hadley's back, and then tenderly cupped her cheeks. Just as she was beginning to stroke her hair, Hadley pulled away with a grin, leaving Angel breathless and dazed. The men whined when it was over.

Hadley gathered up the money. "$500 if you want to see more," she teased and laughed when they frowned and got back to their drinks.

"There ya go," she said, handing the roll of bills to Angel.

"I-I can't accept all this," Angel protested, mouth still warm from their kiss, body shivering from wanting more. _She was with Chase….did the kiss mean anything to her?_

"Just buy me a drink. You need the money," Hadley said, voice slurring, green eyes glittering. Angel decided she was ready to be cut off. Hadley protested, and then nearly fell off the stool.

"Ok that's enough. Give me your keys, I'm calling you a cab," Angel said, steering her towards a table near the door and right in front of one of the dancers. Hadley got a lusty gaze in her eyes as she watched the stripper. Angel felt a small knot of disappointment the look wasn't for her as she made the call.

Angel took a few orders then came back to check on Hadley, when she saw her about to hand a small pill to the dancer. "Remy! What the…" she snatched the pill away. "No drugs! Are you crazy? There are cops in here; do you want to get busted?" Angel hissed.

Hadley shrugged, took the pill back and popped it in her mouth. "What did you just take? Remy!" Angel was scared, ignoring the dancer who looked like she was ready to slap her.

"Why don't you mind your own fucking business?" sneered the dancer as she sauntered off towards the direction of Angel's boss. Angel's only concern was her friend.

"Ecstasy, duh. Only had a $20, skank wasn't worth it." Hadley was looking worse, making Angel shake more.

"Sorry, I don't take drugs so I wouldn't know. I'm calling Chase," Angel said, voice belying her worry.

"Surgery. Not home."

Angel bit her lip, and then knew what she had to do. "I'm calling Eric." Hadley looked at her for a moment with interest, and then shrugged, closing her eyes. "Hey, stay awake," Angel said, shaking her, wondering if she should call 911.

He answered, thank god. "Eric, it's Angel. Look, no questions I need you to come to the WildKat Club. Remy's here, drunk and she took ecstasy. I didn't know what else to do, Chase is in surgery." She gave him directions and sank into a chair, legs trembling. She signaled to the bar she was on break.

After what seemed like an eternity, Angel saw Foreman enter, and she ran over to him. "Guys, he's with me," she said to the bouncers, and grabbed his arm.

"I got a call from my friend and—"

Angel turned. "Eric, it's me." Foreman's jaw literally hung open as his eyes roved up and down her body. She knew she was blushing to her toes but she had to snap him out of it. "Lust later, Remy's over here."

Foreman quickly checked her pulse and deemed it ok. "I've got her keys. I'll call in the morning and bring her car over. I…I just didn't think she should be alone tonight." Angel's eyes met his and she had to look away.

"I'll take her to my place. Angel, what—" Foreman put a hand on Angel's, but she pulled away, backing up. She shook her head.

Angel watched the two of them walk out, and grabbed a shot from the bar. She knew she needed more than a drink to stop the pain she was feeling right now.


	6. Chapter 6

It took Angel a few good hours to get the worst of her pain to go away in the morning. Her body protested getting up, even with her pain meds and a hot shower. She grimaced as she looked into the bathroom mirror and gingerly fingered the bruise on her cheek. Hopefully Hadley would be hung over and she could just drop off the keys and leave without any questions.

Foreman had driven Hadley home so she didn't have to face him as well. She noticed a few messages from him but she couldn't deal with him. Not now. Maybe not ever if she had it her way.

Hadley sounded exhausted on the phone, but said to bring the car over. Hadley covered her eyes when she opened the front door, shading them from the daylight. Angel tried to just hand over the keys, but Hadley shuffled away from the door, plopping on the couch. Angel closed the door and reluctantly came inside. The apartment was mostly dark and she sat with her face turned a bit away from Hadley. Angel tossed the keys on the coffee table.

"Are…you ok?" Angel asked her. As much trouble as she got into, Angel was still concerned.

"Yeah, fine, Eric made me stay up drinking water half the night. Let me crash at his place." She looked over at Angel, still squinting. "Nothing happened between us, really—"

"It's fine. There's nothing between me and Eric anyway. And thanks again for that stunt, the money's a big help." Angel blushed at the memory. She saw Hadley look a little confused. "You kissed me, table full of jocks paid me $500?"

"Oh yeah…okay. I think I vaguely remember it. Hope you still respect me," Hadley laughed.

Angel looked down, feeling disappointed. It hadn't meant anything. "Yeah, of course. I….I'm bisexual too. I've known for a long time but….never been kissed until last night."

Hadley sat up straight. "Really? Huh. Sorry I can't remember much." Angel shrugged.

"You were…..amazing…"The words slipped out before Angel could stop herself. Hadley grinned.

"Thanks. Hey you want something to drink?" Hadley offered.

"No, really I need to go, I'm just glad you're ok," Angel said, knocking over her purse. She turned to pick it up. Hadley let out a gasp when she saw the bruise.

"Angel, oh my god, what happened?" Hadley was suddenly alert and came over to take a closer look. Angel let out a whimper when Hadley's fingers gently palpitated the cheekbone. "You need to have this looked at, it could be fractured."

Angel pulled away. "I'm fine." When Hadley tried to take her arm, Angel let out a hiss of pain. She was right; the old guy had left a bruise.

"No, you're not! Who did this to you?" She stared into Angel's eyes, but this time, Angel had no whiskey to numb the pain.

"The dancer got pissed that I took the ecstasy away from her. She told my boss." Angel hung her head in shame.

"He hit you? Angel we need to call the police," Hadley said, hand nearly on the phone, before Angel snatched it away from her.

"No! I need this job. It's no big deal. Normally I would have ignored customers paying with pills but well, I deserved it." Angel sat, feeling very drained. Hadley sat next to her.

"You do not deserve to be hit. No woman does. This is better than working for House?" she asked stupefied by Angel's reaction.

"Words. Fists. They both hurt. Bruises go away," Angel said flatly, shrugging. "It's not a big deal. Sooner or later it happens. I mean I hadn't been with James long enough—"

Hadley cut her off, angry. "Wilson would never have hit you. Ever. It's…it's not normal to get hit Angel." Suddenly it was dawning on her that this had happened more than a few times. "Angel, you've been hit before." Angel just nodded, avoiding her eyes. "Not just bruises either." Hadley felt sick. "Angel, why? Why would you let anyone treat you that way?" Gently she stroked Angel's hair.

"It was usually my fault. And most of the time, the guy was getting tired of me anyway, so I'd leave."

"Angel….you need help," Hadley said firmly.

"Who are you to judge me?" Angel said, pulling away. "You should take a look at your own life before you look down on mine." She walked to the door. "Stay out of my club, stay out of my life."

Hadley flinched at the sound of the door slamming.

Hadley wasn't looking forward to running into Foreman today. On one hand she knew Angel needed help, but she wondered if she should just mind her own business. She felt guilty that her bringing ecstasy to the club had gotten Angel in trouble.

As she grabbed a chart for the clinic, she nearly ran into Angel. She was limping, hunched over, hair covering part of her face. "Angel, you're here; do you need treatment?" Hadley was concerned when Angel didn't even lift her head and spoke quietly.

"I'm just here to pick up my last paycheck. Bye, Remy." Hadley wasn't going to let her go so quickly.

"Wait, you're here, at least let me take a look at your cheek…" As Angel turned, Hadley saw why her hair was covering her face—because makeup was poorly hiding the bruise and the fresh black eye nearly swelling her eye shut. "Oh god. Angel."

Angel didn't even try to explain her injuries; she just tried to push past Hadley and leave. But Hadley had other ideas. She grabbed out her cell phone and snapped a picture of Angel's face and showed her. "Look at yourself! There is nothing you could have possibly done to deserve to look like this!" It took a lot to bring Remy Hadley to tears, but she was fighting them off.

"Mind your own business!" Angel growled. She could see House and Wilson walking this way, so she left as fast as she could, leaving Hadley shaking.

"13, what was she doing here?" House said, irritated, looking at Angel walking out the door.

"Dr. Hadley? What's wrong?" Wilson saw the look of distress on her face.

"Angel's new boss is beating her up," Hadley said, voice audibly shaking. Both men looked at her with a frown. Then House shrugged.

"It's her life. She quit, remember?" Hadley grabbed his arm to stop him from walking away and thrust the picture on her cell phone into his face.

"Does she deserve this?" She was determined to help Angel.

Wilson gasped. "House…." House's eyes softened. He barely recognized her.

"I'm on it. Where does she work?" Hadley gave him a matchbook from the club. "Save that picture, just in case, ok?" Hadley nodded.

It was just past close; Angel hoped she could slip out tonight without incident. She'd been sure to do everything right tonight. No screw-ups. No complaints from dancers or customers. She'd worn a mask that covered what makeup couldn't. The WildKat costume had been quite popular tonight; at least she thought was her best night yet in tips. She was about to grab her coat and dash out when she heard her name.

"Tricksy darlin', come on over here," Bud Friendly called. There was a smile on his face but all it did was put a knot in her stomach.

"Yes, sir?" Angel mustered up all the confidence she could, bracing for a blow. His two bouncers were there, smiling at her, making her more uncomfortable.

"That is one hot outfit. I was thinking we could use you as our poster gal. What do you think? You'll earn an extra $5,000," Bud said, sliding closer to her.

Angel was so distracted by the idea of so much money, it wasn't until his hands were on her that she snapped back to reality. "It-it sounds like a lovely offer," Angel stammered, feeling his hot breath on her neck. His hands began to stroke the velvet leopard print corset, tugging a few ribbons loose. Another hand went lower to the velvet thong, playfully tugging at the cat tail, then cupping her ass.

Bud backed her against the wall, pressing his mouth fiercely against hers. The mixture of booze and cigar smoke made her want to retch, but she knew this was time to finesse him and not upset him again. Gently she put her fingertips on his shoulders pushing him back. "Oh, you tease. So many lovely girls here and you choose me?"

He buried his face in her neck and grunted in her ear "I help you, you help me, know what I mean darlin'?" Angel's heart began to pound and she tried to move around him, but the bouncers each grabbed a wrist. All confidence went out the window as she pulled and struggled. Bud just laughed.

"I knew you were a fighter, the first time I saw you. It's going to make this all the more interesting," he leered, pressing his body hard against hers. Angel began to sob, knowing what was coming.

"Get away from her, now."

Angel held her breath as Bud turned to take a look at the intruder. She grew more frightened when she saw it was House. She shook her head at House, tried to get him to realize he was in danger. Bud just laughed.

"Oh yeah, old man? Says you and what army?" The bouncers laughed too, looking at him standing there in the spotlight with his cane.

"Oh, I'm sorry, how rude of me. I'd like to introduce my friends," House mocked, stepping to one side. Three men stepped out of the shadows; one, shorter, the other two very much larger than the bouncers, all wearing suits and looking quite serious. Angel didn't recognize them, and didn't think they were cops.

Upon seeing their faces, the bouncers let go of Angel's wrists and bolted for the side door. "I see your men are familiar with my men. Now, you apologize to the woman for what you've done to her, and I think this will end without too much mess." Angel, legs shaking, slid to the floor when they released her, but couldn't help cracking a smile at House's dry wit.

"Apologize to her? To this cockteasing slut? Sure." Before anyone could stop him, Bud kicked Angel in the side, hard. She fell forward, unable to breathe. The guys with House slammed Bud up against the wall.

House dropped his cane and knelt next to Angel, her face contorted in agony, gasping for air. He pulled off her mask and could barely stomach what that bastard had done to her. She looked much worse than the photo 13 took. "Ok, I'm going to have to undo this," he said apologetically as he began to untie the bottom of her corset. He was about to ask her where it hurt when he saw an area of dark purple, spreading under her skin.

House blanched and grabbed his phone. "I need an ambulance at the WildKat club. Woman with internal bleeding." His next call was to PPTH to put out a 911 page for Chase and Taub to get the OR ready for their arrival.

When she could finally breathe, she looked up at House. "What are you doing here? Who are they?" House took her hand, shaking his head.

"Don't worry about that right now," he said softly, rubbing her hand with his thumb, giving her a small smile, hoping it was enough to keep her calm.

Suddenly she bucked forward, vomiting blood. "House?" Angel's eyelids fluttered, her grasp on House's hand growing weaker. "I'm c-cold. Please don't leave me."

"I'm not going anywhere." House draped her coat over her. _Damn where were the paramedics?_

It felt like forever but House heard the approaching sirens. As they loaded Angel into the rig, barely conscious, House glared over at Bud. "If anything happens to her—"

One of the men with House spoke up, "House, we'll take care of him. I hope she's ok. We'll be in touch." House gave him a nod before they closed the doors.

House rubbed Angel's cheek. "C'mon stay with me Angel. Don't you dare die on me. Wilson and Foreman will kill me." His heart pounded hard…if only he'd been there a few minutes sooner….

He bent his head forward, closed his eyes, feeling remorse wash over him. Then suddenly it was like the bus accident all over again, and he began to hyperventilate, flashing back on Amber's death. He pressed down hard on the scar on his right leg, the shock of pain jolting him back to reality. He had to stay focused for Angel's sake.

"I-I just wanted to see the snow," Angel mumbled, looking at House but not really seeing him. House frowned, confused. "They locked me out and he laughed at me and wouldn't let me back in," she whimpered.

"Who, Angel," House asked, even though he thought she was just delusional from the shock.

"The bad man and mommy. And I forgot my shoes and coat. I didn't mean to be a bad girl, Mórai," she said, even more distressed.

"Shh you're not a bad girl. We're taking you to the hospital to get you warmed up," House tried to relieve her, curious as to what endearment she just said to him. But Angel just got more upset.

"No, no, they just ask lots of questions about the bad man and take pictures and then the bad man gets madder at me," she keened, clutching House's arm.

"I promise, no one will hurt you ever again, I'll make sure of it, Angel." He stroked her hair which seemed to calm her. "Angel, how old are you?" House had a sinking feeling in his stomach now; she wasn't delusional, this was a memory.

Angel tried to giggle but wound up coughing, droplets of blood on her lips. "Silly Mórai, I'm 9." She tried to cough again, but her eyes rolled back in her head, head lolling to the side. Her cold hand slipped from House's arm as her skin turned ashen.

House could see the lights of PPTH ahead but he worried it was too late.

House limped as fast as he could to keep up with the gurney to the OR. Chase and Taub were clearly shocked to see Angel accompanied by House, confused by her outfit and injuries. House entered as if to scrub in, Taub blocked his way.

"House, you're in no condition to help her this way. Call Foreman. Call Wilson. They'll want to know she's here." Hadley came up from behind and gently took his arm.

"I came in with Chase. She's in good hands. Come on," she said insistently. They went up to the surgery gallery; House sat in a chair glancing at the monitors in the room. It wasn't long before Chase made the initial incision…_so much blood_…House had expected it but his hands shook nonetheless.

Hadley could see the effect this was having on House; quickly she made calls to Foreman and Wilson. House barely knew they'd arrived until they patted him on the shoulder. Remy began telling them what she knew, House finished quietly. They sat, watching in silent shock as Taub and Chase worked frantically to keep Angel from bleeding out.

Collectively they held their breaths when Angel's heart stopped. House jumped to his feet and hit the com. "Angel, don't you dare give up! Keep fighting!" Wilson pulled him away, wrapping an arm around his shoulder.

"This never should have happened. I should have been there sooner," House said, voice husky.

"House this wasn't your fault. And you were there. God knows what would have happened otherwise," Hadley tried to comfort him. Wilson agreed.

"I just don't understand why she'd let someone do this to her," Foreman nearly whispered. "C'mon Angel, don't leave me…."

After a few more seconds, the surgical team brought her back but it was touch and go for everything during the surgery. Eventually, Wilson and Hadley dozed off but House and Foreman kept their eyes focused sharply on the room below. House lost track of how many pints of blood they went through. Both men cringed when Chase announced they couldn't save her spleen, it would have to be removed. She also had 2 cracked ribs but the blood loss and infection were going to be her biggest hurdles after surgery.

Surgery finished, vitals stable, Angel was moved to recovery and then to a private room in ICU. Wilson grabbed a chair for House. The group was joined by Chase and Taub. House relayed what Angel had said to him in the ambulance. Hadley looked at him curiously. "Mórai is Irish for Grandfather. You think it really was a memory?"

"Yeah. She ever said anything to any of you about her childhood?" No one answered. "Wilson and I found old fractures on her arm x-ray. Between that, and from what 13 said, it makes more sense now. Battered Woman Syndrome." House didn't like being right about this potential diagnosis.

"Hey, there you are," Foreman crooned softly as Angel began to open her eyes. He put his hand on hers, but she gasped and pulled her hand away, clutching House's hand instead.

"Mórai? Where am I? Who are all these people? Am I in trouble?" She looked terrified, and tried to climb out of the bed, clinging to House's shirt.

"Easy, easy, Angel, it's ok. I'm here. These are all the nice doctors who will be very good to you, I promise. But you have to lie still in bed, okay?" The team was shocked by the tenderness in House's voice. He ignored all of them, focusing his blue eyes on hers, smiling kindly.

Angel nodded, looking at them all, still scared. "You don't think I'm a bad girl? I promise to be good. I won't be evil like the bad man says I am."

House's eyes blazed with anger at the idea. "Of course you're a good girl, we all know that. And you are not evil, no matter what anyone says." He stroked her cheek "But you do need to get some sleep and rest. Your body needs to heal. Promise?"

"I promise," Angel said sleepily, the sedative kicking in. "Will you stay with me?"

"I'll be here until you fall asleep, but I promise you won't be alone. One of us will be here with you at all times and you will be safe. Do you trust me?"House ran his hand down her hair and she smiled and nodded.

"I love you Mórai," Angel said before closing her eyes, House still tenderly holding her hand.

"I love you too Angel. That's a good girl." He watched over her until he was sure she was asleep, and then carefully extracted his hand from hers.

"I swear to god, if any of you mention this…." House began to softly growl.

"House we won't say a word," Foreman said seriously. He was distressed that Angel didn't remember him and that she was having horrible flashbacks, but at least someone could comfort her.

House looked at him and quietly nodded. "I want someone with her at all times. I'm going to call the psychiatrist in the morning. Since she's already here, hopefully he can come to her room for sessions." He looked at Wilson and said, "I'm going to call Nolan." Wilson agreed with his choice, as it had been Nolan who had treated House.

"I'll sit with her first," offered Foreman, eager to be with her, even if she didn't remember him yet. The team looked at Angel sadly as they filed out, knowing she had a long road of healing ahead of her.


	7. Chapter 7

Each team member took their shift with Angel over the next few days. She was mostly sedated but also kept fading in and out of consciousness. After her initial conversation with House, she ceased to speak of anything but pain, so they had no clue if she was still stuck as a 9 year old or had regained her adult memories. They determined her facial injuries were minor; Foreman noted in her charts a predisposition to an eye condition called iritis that could be brought on by the blow to her eye. He made sure he'd keep a look out for any signs of it until she could speak.

House took his turn with Angel; Wilson noticed he didn't bring a video game or book with him. Though he might doze off, most of his time was spent researching on his laptop. For what, Wilson didn't know, but the thoughtful looks House gave Angel, he assumed it had more to do with medicine and less to do with fighting off boredom, as he was usually wont to do.

Wilson poured his heart out to Angel, knowing that this was not a sufficient apology to her. But Hadley mentioned to him that Angel assumed he would have eventually started beating her. His heart was in a constant state of pain, and until Angel awoke and he could beg her forgiveness, all he could do was talk to her while she slept.

Chase and Taub could see how troubled Hadley was by Angel's injuries. She too spent her time talking softly to Angel, promising she would take better care of herself, but that Angel had to promise the same. She also felt a bit guilty at kissing Angel, realizing it had meant a great deal to Angel, yet she'd barely remembered it in her drunken haze.

Foreman had to be scolded by Cuddy to get rest and leave Angel's side. He wanted nothing more than to crawl into bed with her, gather her in his arms and kiss every injury. Had she really been that afraid to trust him? Or did she just not trust anyone? He began to suspect it was the latter, looking at her scattered employment records and various addresses. House promised him the bastard who hurt her was being taken care of; he still wanted to find him and give him ten times the beating he'd given Angel.

He knew that Angel was going to need time to heal, both physically and emotionally, but Foreman wanted to be there by her side every step of the way. They'd shared but a few kisses, but he already knew he wanted a more serious relationship with her. He couldn't explain it—the feelings were just there. He only hoped that Angel felt the same way….

"Eric….it hurts….." Angel moaned, voice dry and breaking up. His heart raced as he reached for her hand and she let him stroke it. Her eyes had fluttered open but he could see she wasn't focusing well.

"I'll turn up your meds. Do you want some water?" She nodded. After dialing up her meds, Foreman supported her shoulders so she could tip her head forward for a drink. Angel let out a little sigh and nodded. Foreman helped her settle back.

"You're at PPTH. Do you remember what happened?" Angel, drowsy from the meds, nodded with little emotion. "You had to have surgery. Chase and Taub had to remove your spleen. It will mean you'll be more prone to infection so you're in the ICU."

"I'm sorry, Eric, for saying those things to you." Angel's pain was better but she could remember some things that needed amends.

Eric stroked her hair and kissed her cheek. "No need for apologies, Angel. I have a feeling I know why you said that. I'm here. I'm not going anywhere." He looked into her eyes and she gave him a small smile, a tear slipping out. He brushed it away with his lips, then kissed her, feeling her tip her chin up. She tried to reach a hand up to touch his cheek, but her arms felt like lead weights, too weary to move.

"Take it easy," Foreman said kindly, taking her hand and putting it on his cheek. "You're going to need some time to heal. No need to rush it."

"Hey, you're awake," Wilson called softly from the door. He was optimistic but still wasn't sure what Angel's attitude toward him would be. He felt a huge release when she smiled, and walked over to her, kissing the top of her head. Foreman gave him a cordial nod but he was not leaving.

Her fingers touched his as he reached for her hand. Very quickly, his smile was replaced by a sad frown. "Angel, I'm so sorry for what I said. You wouldn't have quit and this wouldn't have happened—"

"James, I forgive you." Angel closed her eyes and took in a breath, momentarily winded. When she opened her eyes, she saw that Wilson's eyes were red-rimmed. "Don't cry. I'm going to be okay. And we're still friends. Always." With some effort, Angel brought his hand to her lips and kissed the fingertips. He sighed with relief and kissed her hand in return.

Angel's breathing began to get labored and her pulse oximeter began to fall dangerously low. "Just…..tired…..chest…..hurts……" she worked to get the words out.

"You have two cracked ribs and you're going to get tired out easily for awhile. There will be time to chat more later," Foreman explained to her, signaling to Wilson visiting time was over. Wilson kissed Angel on the cheek and promised to be back soon. Foreman increased her oxygen and sedative.

"Get some sleep. I'll stay in the recliner here if that's ok?" Angel smiled and he thought he saw a faint blush, though her skin was still ashen and bruised. God how he loved her blushing…..

Word got around to the rest that Angel was having more alert moments, so they would often stop by to see if she was awake. Taub was greeted by a warm smile as he gingerly hugged her. "My hero for real this time. I hope you made sure there would be no scars," Angel weakly joked.

"You'll be in a bikini, no time," Taub joked back, flushed.

"I'll make sure to sign you up for Men's Hair Club after this," Angel teased, looking apologetic.

"We're just glad you're ok," Chase chimed in with another gentle hug. "We tried everything we could about your spleen—"

"I understand. Thank you both for saving my life." Angel began to tear up. She was aware more of how she looked and felt embarrassed.

"Foreman, you mind?" Hadley looked over at Foreman, who looked in desperate need of coffee. He nodded and left.

Angel lowered her head in shame. She was surprised when Hadley came over and hugged her tenderly. More so when she began to speak, voice shaking, "I was so afraid we were going to lose you."

Hadley sat on the stool next to Angel's bed, tears glistening in her emerald eyes. "I should have done more to get you out of there, should have called the police, and it's my fault you got hit in the first place, I was so stupid—"

"Remy, shh," Angel comforted, leaning forward to hug her in return. "I'm an adult. This wasn't the first time I'd been beaten….I'm not your responsibility."

"But you're my friend! You put your neck on the line for me and you almost died!" She looked at her incredulously. "Why? Why would you do that?"

"I've had to live on the streets before. To me, this…seems….better." Angel turned away, trying to hide the bruises. Hadley reached over and carefully stroked her cheek.

"I'm sorry….that I was too drunk to remember kissing you. I can see now it was important to you. I didn't mean to hurt you." Hadley and Angel both blushed a bit. When Angel didn't speak, Hadley leaned over and kissed her softly on the lips, still stroking Angel's cheek, her other hand running through Angel's hair.

When the kiss ended, Angel smiled and blushed harder, and then her eyes got wide. Hadley turned around to see Chase, Taub, Wilson, Foreman and House watching, practically salivating. "I missed the beginning of that, could you do it again?" House said with a straight face. The women hugged, with Hadley telling her she'd see her later.

"No, I was serious…" House called after Hadley, then turned back, very disappointed. "Those of you not in a hospital bed, shoo." Angel nodded at Foreman, smiling. "Is he your new bodyguard?" House mockingly rolled his eyes as Foreman left, and then sat next to her bed.

Angel couldn't look him in the eyes and was at a loss for words. House found himself in the very same position. He cleared his throat; Angel glanced over at him timidly, unsure of his mood. "Angel, I'm sorry. Even if I had known about Connor's bio-dad, I never should have made a joke. Losing your son had to hurt like hell." He fell quiet, his blue eyes darting up to hers, uncomfortable but clearly remorseful.

Angel's own feelings were tearing her up inside, she felt frozen. House took that to be a refusal of his apology and began to stand. Angel reached out and gently touched his hand. "No, wait, please. I…I forgive you. I just didn't know what to say about what happened the other night." House sat and began to wave it off, but Angel persisted. "No, I need to say this." She looked into his eyes. "Thank you for saving my life. I don't know why you did it, but thank you."

Quietly, House replied, "You're welcome. And I did it because no employee of mine gets hit, especially a woman."

Angel looked at him, confused. "But…I don't work for you anymore."

"You can have your job back. Already talked to Cuddy." He was confused by the upset look on her face.

"I….need this job. It pays more. I just have to—" House firmly gripped her by the shoulders.

"Do you want to get killed? He was going to rape you! And from the look of it, his buddies too! You _will _quit that job. Your bills will all be taken care of. Do you trust me?" House was practically shouting, but not enough to bring Foreman running back in.

Angel bit her lip, feeling her cheeks get hot under House's fierce gaze. But yes, she trusted him. Why, she wasn't sure. But she quickly nodded her head. He gently released her arms, his gaze softened. And then he gave her an impish smile. "Want to know who those guys were and why you're going to be ok? But you have to promise not to tell, especially not Wilson."

His grin was infectious and she leaned towards him. "The shorter one? A few years back I saved his brother. And he promised if I ever needed a favor, to let him know. So I called in a favor." At Angel's blank look, his grin got bigger. "They're in the mob." That got the desired reaction, her eyes got wide, her mouth a big silent O. "So they told your boss that if you so much as stub your toe, they're going to pay him a very painful visit. Or another one I should say. He physically paid for what he did to you. And for his protection, he will be paying whatever bills you should need now or in the future." House smiled, feeling very proud of his ingenuity.

Angel leaned forward and kissed House, soft and warm. "I think that is one of the nicest things anyone has ever done for me," Angel said quietly. "Thank you House."

This managed to make House a bit self-conscious, but he still had a faint smile. "You're welcome. Now. I need you to do some things for me in return." Angel's smile faded, steeling herself for his request, her expression going numb.

"I…I suppose you expect regular _favors_," she said, her voice flat.

House realized a moment too late what other men and employers had expected from her. "No. God no. That's not what I mean. I want you to start counseling. You have Battered Woman Syndrome. I have an excellent doctor who can see you here in your room until you're well enough to go to his office. He….he was my psychiatrist. He's good, caring."

Angel looked scared. "I don't need a shrink. I'm fine, I'm not crazy."

"No, but you do think it's normal to get beaten up. That's not ok and it's a requirement if you want to come back to work for me. So. What's it going to be?" At her silence, House got up and started to walk out.

She gazed away, tears in her eyes. "I'm scared."

House stopped, came back to her bedside. "What are you afraid of?"

"I have these nightmares…they're always the same, a voice telling me I'm evil, I'm bad, that the people I love will die and it's all my fault. I'm…afraid a doctor will tell me it's true." Angel was shaking.

"It's not true. And I promise Dr. Nolan will help you realize that. Last chance, are you taking my offer?" House looked at her, seeing the turmoil in her darkening eyes, relieved when she nodded.

"Ok then. Good girl. Get some rest." House settled into the recliner. "Oh, hey, is today recruitment day? What was that with 13?" House couldn't help himself, he was dying of curiosity.

Angel smiled and blushed. "Um, I'm bisexual too."

"Oh." House began to contemplate that far too long for Angel's comfort.

"Goodnight House," she laughed lightly.

Foreman tapped on Wilson's door. He didn't want to interfere if Wilson and Angel had a relationship, but he was certainly going to find out for sure. Wilson called out, "Come in."

All thoughts went out the window when he saw Wilson's face. He was holding a chart, eyes red, and looked up at Foreman, devastated. "Wilson, what is it?"

"I…I just got the biopsy results from Angel's spleen. They found amyloidosis." Wilson fought his emotions to continue. "We'll need to perform some more tests, but….it looks like Angel has cancer."

**~Finis~**


End file.
